The Space I Filled
by A Cup of Joe
Summary: In an effort to escape Ra's Al Ghul's attention, Tim disappears, remaining hidden from everyone, even his family. After a few years, Tim, as Red X, stumbles upon a girl who shows the potential to become a superhero. He takes her under his wing, not realizing that she will eventually lead him back home.
1. You Can't Smoke Out Smoke

Tim had been gone for five years. Five years of never seeing his family and friends, five years of isolating himself from everyone he cared about, five years of dodging Bruce's, Kon's, Cass's, and Ra's attempts at finding him. Dodging everyone's attempts, really. It was exhausting.

Hopping from city to city, town to town, trying to find the most secluded, out of the way place before realizing it was hard to blend in in places like that. Holing up in crowded cities and getting low-end jobs so as to not draw attention. Reading the papers religiously to make sure that he knew where Bruce Wayne was at all times and staying the hell away from those places. That one day when he was on his way to work and he froze in his tracks when he saw Kon flying above the city, scanning the crowds, and he had to go leave right then without even packing any of his belongings.

Not forming any attachments with anybody in the hopes that nobody would file a missing person's report. Thinking up name after name after name and having to remember them and respond to them like they were actually his. Wondering if he was even Timothy Drake anymore, or if that was always a lie.

Realizing that he felt empty and hollow, and that he couldn't handle living unless he was a vigilante. Forming a new alter ego, knowing that everything was okay because Batman had a Robin and that Robin didn't have to be him, and feeling alive for the first time in a year when he finally soared above the skyscrapers of his current city and saved the lives of its citizens. Knowing the difficulties of being a superhero without a Bruce Wayne budget. Getting shot in the chest and almost dying because he hadn't gotten his hands on some actual Kevlar yet, and having to pull the bullet out and sew it up himself without passing out because there was no Alfred in Lima, Peru.

After about three years, the searches for him dwindled down a bit, which Tim was grateful for, if not a little childishly disappointed in. Perhaps his family and friends had finally gotten the hint that he didn't want to be found. Or maybe they thought he was dead. Either way, it gave him more room to breathe, and he stayed in Lima for a while. Maybe too long.

Seeing one of Ra's ninja's searching the city and realizing that his new vigilante gig was getting a little public, and therefore having to fake his death and move to another city to start up again, because if Ra's found him then this all would have been for nothing.

It was Ra's he was running away from in the first place, trying to stay hidden long enough that Ra's leaves him alone. Gives up. Thinks he's dead. Until he actually is dead, perhaps, he didn't know. As long as Ra's couldn't get to him, then it was fine. The man was powerful, and he wanted something from Tim (Andrew, Juan, Brian, Andre, Akachi, Muhammad, Tina, Harry, Muhammad, Hunter, Mason, Muhammad, Han, Peter, etc., etc.), and Tim needed to get him off his back somehow. And if his family and friends knew where he was, then the Demon's Head would inevitably find out. So he made himself invisible, unfindable. And remained that way until he was sure it was safe to stop, or if it was never safe to stop, then he would never come out of hiding.

It hurt to think that, but it was simply the truth. He had committed himself to this, and he had to see it through. He was a danger to those around him, and he had to fix it. So he did.

Dick hadn't wanted to give up. Bruce hadn't wanted to give up. Alfred, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Jason, and even Damian hadn't wanted to give up. Kon had ranted to them about how he couldn't believe they were thinking of giving up. Bart had remained quietly disappointed. The Titans, who had long moved on and let another generation take over the tower, all fumed at them for even mentioning the idea of giving up.  
But Tim had disappeared three years ago. Nobody knew what had happened to him. They found his tracker, carved out of his skin, in an abandoned warehouse in Gotham. No other trace of him was left there. He had left Red Bird, he had left his suit, he had left all his gear. He hadn't taken any belongings with him. It was like he had just secretly hopped a plane with just the clothes on his back. Whenever Bruce or Oracle got a lead on him it was a dead-end.

"Who, Juan? Hasn't shown up at work for weeks, Señor. Had to hire someone else. He in some kind of trouble?"

"Muhammad didn't talk much. Never went to the company get-togethers. I think he left town about a month ago, because he quit and then I didn't see him at all after that. Sorry."

Apartments, practically gutted they were so clean, where he had supposedly stayed. Not even a trace of DNA left.

The closest anyone had gotten was when Superboy had searched for him in New Zealand. Kon could have sworn he saw him, smelled him, heard him, something. And after they made sure that he wasn't in the city or any of the surrounding cities, and that they couldn't find any of his names on a public transport list or on store or gas station records, or that they couldn't spot him in any security footage, they found his apartment.

When Dick had seen it, it was enough to make him cry. He had flown in for the search, and the apartment was the last chance they had. It didn't give them a single clue as to where he might have gone, but it was more than enough to tell him he had been there. Thai takeout was in the fridge, next to cans upon cans of energy drinks. A coffee maker sat on the counter, still full of about six cups of coffee. An unmade bed, a messy desk with a laptop, a closet full of jeans and sweaters and comfy shoes. Sweatpants, shorts, and a Superboy t-shirt. A fucking Superboy t-shirt. Piles of newspapers with the locations of Bruce Wayne for the past six months and where he was going to be circled in red. A Star Trek poster on the wall above the bed. A simple sweep had Tim's DNA and fingerprints coating the place. Dick had sat down on the floor, grabbed a shoe that was lying by the bed, and just stayed there for hours, soaking in the echoes of Tim's presence. Superboy had come in a bit later, frustrated from looking for his friend, and sat next to him in silence.

That was over two years ago. They hadn't gotten nearly that close since. Hell, they weren't even getting any leads. Maybe... maybe it was time to move on. Maybe it was time to accept that Tim was gone from their lives.

Jason stopped asking for updates. Alfred looked like he wanted to say something, but eventually he didn't mention Tim's name anymore. Damian was immersed in his career as Robin and in his schoolwork. Barbara hadn't gotten the "Possible Red Robin Lead" alert in months. Bruce was losing hope. Kon was losing faith. Mentioning him was like mentioning someone who died. There was talk of putting up a statue in the Hall of Justice, but nobody would hear of it.

The search was cold. His presence was no more than a memory. Everyone sort of just... gave up.

Tim had gone to Brazil because he remembered his parents speaking highly of it. The people, the sights, the culture! Enrapturing, they had called it. Tim looked at it and thought, ...Well, there's certainly a lot of crime. He found a place in Fortaleza, which was not only one of the largest cities, but had a high crime index. He bought an apartment to hole up in and started a job as a bartender before putting together a new suit and superhero name, something discreet. He took the time to get some Kevlar, half-decent weaponry, and fell into a routine of eat, sleep, work, kick ass, repeat. He thought he was doing an okay job this time around.

Then one day he came across a kid. She was wandering around on rooftops taking pictures with her phone. Taking pictures of him, as luck would have it.

He noticed her while he was fighting off some muggers one night. She was sitting on a rooftop, and the slight snap of a shutter caught his already somewhat occupied attention. He glanced up and saw a small head peaking over the small rise at the edge of the roof, along with the top of a phone, which just kept snapping pictures.

That would not do, not at all. Not when he was trying to maintain a low profile. Had he really gotten noticeable enough that a kid was stalking him? Would he have to move again?  
After the muggers were taken care of (a few broken ribs, lost teeth, and a concussion. Overkill, perhaps, but he was tired), he vanished into the shadows of the night and watched as the girl looked around in confusion, trying to find him.

She gave up after a bit and tucked her phone into her pocket, leaping onto a nearby roof and making her way south. Seemingly following the route he usually takes through the city. Well damn. She'd been following him for a while, then. He tailed her as she made her way through the city, thinking to himself that if she became a problem, he would have to move again. And he really didn't want to do that.


	2. The Art of Superhero Stalking

The similarities between himself and her were not lost on him, that was for sure. But he was more concerned about how she had heard of him in the first place. He followed her for a few minutes, silently observing her as she searched for him. Her hair was cropped boyishly short, and her all-black wardrobe blended nicely into the night. She was practical, and athletically inclined, apparently. She was good at navigating rooftops, at least. Good for a civilian.

After getting tired of just watching her get more and more frustrated at his lack of appearance, he stood in a particularly shadowy area of the roof so as to minimize what she could see of him, and cleared his throat.

She whipped around, eyes blown wide, and stared at him with a mixture of fear and awe.

"It's... it's you! It's actually you! Holy shit, I-"

"You," he interrupted in his best Batman voice, causing her to squeak a bit, "were following me."

She didn't take her eyes off of him, but she did shuffle her feet a bit and nod.

"And you were taking pictures."

Another nod.

"Why?"

She looked a bit confused, and said, "Well, because you're amazing. We've never had a vigilante in this city. Most of them are in, ya know, America. And I've always wished someone would show up here and save us, like Superman or Wonderwoman or Batman, or someone. I... I even considered doing it myself, but," she paused to clear her throat, "I'm just a kid, ya know?"

"So you think that running around on rooftops and taking pictures of me is a smart thing to do?"

The look of alarm on her face was a little funny, but this was too serious a situation to be light-hearted.

"I was always careful, and don't worry, I would never get in your way. I just wanted to, I don't know, know more about you? I-" she finally looked away from him, bowing her head, "I'm sorry."

Tim sighed and said, "Don't you think stalking a vigilante is a bit strange? Dangerous? ...Stupid?" Yeah, he felt like a real hypocrite right then.

"Yeah, but I felt like I had to. You probably don't remember, but you saved me and my sister a bit ago," she answered, "We were walking home from her school a few weeks ago and these guys tried to get us into their car. And when we didn't, they got out and started trying to force us. And then you just swooped in and took them out!" Her voice started to gain volume and excitement, and she was bouncing up and down. "And you took the one guy out with a kick, and the other guy drew a gun but you knocked it out of his hand! Then you threw the third guy against the car! It was awesome!"

She took a deep breath and Tim remained silent. He did remember them. He remembered the look of gratitude and awe this girl had shot him and how her little sister had been crying.

"And then you asked us if we were okay," she continued when he didn't say anything, "and I said yes and thanked you, and you nodded and grappled away. It was one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. I just had to find out more about you!"

Tim didn't say anything for a while, just watched as she got more and more uncomfortable in the silence. Finally he said, "How old are you. Twelve?"

She bristled a bit. "Thirteen."

"Still young. You shouldn't be out here. Go home."

The crestfallen look on her face was enough to melt a bit of the Batman persona he was putting on, and he sighed a bit. "Look, I'll escort you there. I'm not mad at you, I just don't want to have to worry about you, okay? I'm flattered, but this is really dangerous. You're just a kid."

She nodded a bit, then said, "I'll go home. Can I just ask a favor?"

"...What?"

"Can you... Do you think your grappling hook could carry both of us?"

After a bit of staring, he mentally shrugged and walked out of the shadows, watching as her breath caught a bit at seeing all of him in the pale moonlight. Her fingers twitched toward the phone in her pocket but she didn't pull it out, so he didn't have to tell her to knock it off.

"Where do you live?" he asked, taking out his grappling hook and readying it, mentally performing all the calculations that had to do with the wind speed and which way it was going.

"Avenue Beira Mar, an apartment on the east side."

"Hold on," Tim said as he wrapped an arm around her waist and shot the grapple into a nearby building. She wrapped her arms around his neck in a deathgrip, and he stepped off the building.

Her yelp sounded in his ear on the first swing as the lurch of gravity and the lack of a support under her feet hit her, but by the second swing she was laughing and giggling. Her yells of joy floated and cut through the city air, and her amazement at the ride had Tim re-experiencing his first time grappling. The feeling of flying, the wind in his hair, the complete and total freedom.

He looked at her face, which was crinkled with excitement, and felt a chuckle bubble up from within to join her peals of laughter. He realized that this was all new to her, that she had never experienced this. That she had been tied to the ground her whole life. He grinned and took a particularly sharp turn around a building and she screamed and hid her face in his shoulder, but her histarical giggling only increased.

They soared through the air, and Tim thought that this was the most fun he'd had in years, maybe since he'd left Gotham. Maybe since he'd been Robin. When they finally reached her apartment, he set her down on her balcony.

She stumbled onto it, breathless and still laughing."That was..." she shook her head, seemingly unable to find the words to express it, "that was one of the most amazing things that has ever happened to me. Holy shit!"

Tim smiled under the mask, chuckling to let her know he was happy for her.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" She paused and smiled a bit ruefully. "And, uh, sorry for stalking you and all that."

"No problem. Just stay safe, okay?"

"Sure," she answered, then turned her back to him to continue ranting about the flight. He took that opportunity to take off, knowing she would turn around and he would be gone.

Apparently he hadn't gotten through to her with his whole, "What you're doing is really dangerous" speech, because a few days later she was following him around again, snapping photos.

He tied up the rapist he was wailing on and grappled to the roof she was sitting on.

"What are you doing?" he asked in his best "disapproving Bruce" voice.

"I was just taking some pictures. Don't worry, I'm being really careful, I'm not following you on your whole route anymore. Which you changed, I noticed," she said with a nervous smile.

Tim really wished the helmet didn't prevent him from pinching the bridge of his nose and considered changing his look simply for that purpose.

"Look, when I said this was dangerous, I meant don't do it again. Ever. Don't you have enough pictures?"

"No... I know it's dangerous but as long as I stay around you I'll be okay. Besides, I can take care of myself well enough. I've lived here my whole life, you know."

"You're twelve."

"Thirteen!" came her indignant cry.

"Thirteen, right, sorry." He sighed. "Being around me is actually really dangerous because I literally go around looking for bad people to beat up, okay? I can't guarantee your protection. I can try, but it's not airtight."

"I know that! I just need to do this, okay? I need to observe you and see what you do so that..." she trailed off, going silent and looking down at the alley below them instead of at him.

"So that what? So that you can... be like me?"

"Well... yeah." She looked up at him with puppy dog eyes.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. You are not getting into the vigilante business. I do not recommend, condone, or allow that, okay? That is not a good idea at all." Holy hell, did this girl make him feel like the biggest hypocrite in the world.

"Why not? How old are you even?" she asked, getting a bit upset now.

He scoffed. "I am twenty-four, thank you very much. That's a lot older than you. And I have a lot more experience. So get that thought out of your head, okay?"

"Really? You look younger," she said musingly. Tim supressed a groan. "Sound like it too..."

"It doesn't matter what I sound like!" He snapped, then put a hand on his forehead. "You're not going to be a vigilante. You are not going to observe me anymore. You are going to go home, or I will carry you there. And it won't be fun like last time."

Her mouth set into a firm line, but she nodded stiffly and got up to climb down the fire escape. He watched her go, arms crossed.

She paused on the fire escape, then looked up at him and asked, "What's your name?"

"My name?" he answered dumbly.

"Yeah. You know, most superheroes have a name. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green Lantern..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, waving his hand. He had been calling himself Red X in his head, but hadn't actually said it to anyone. He wanted the criminals to come up with their own names for him to make him seem more like a legend, but the helmet had a red X on it, so it was kind of obvious anyway. He shrugged and answered, "Red X."

A grin split her face. "Oh man, that's so cool."

"Heh. Yeah, cool... What's your name?"

She looked surprised that he asked, but said, "Adriana. Adriana Marsh."

Tim nodded, then said, "Bye Adriana. I better not see you up here again."

She sighed and continued to climb down the fire escape.


	3. The Perks of Taking a Beating

There were a few more incidents with Adriana. She would sneak out, follow him around, take videos of his fights, ask him about his methodology. He would lecture her, send her back home, or when he was really frustrated, carry her back and dump her on her balcony. She was persistent if nothing else.

There were a few times where he had gotten in a bit over his head, and she had tried to help him out. Those were the times that he actually got angry and physically hauled her to her apartment, but nothing really serious had come out of them. A few cuts and bruises, some could-have-died moments.

It was on a hot summer night in July that things came to a head. Adriana had taken to going ahead of him on his route and waiting for him to show up to take a video or some pictures. She was sitting on a roof, killing time by playing a game on her phone until Red X showed, when she heard a scream from the alley below her.

A little boy, crying, being dragged around by a large man. His sobs pierced her ears, and she placed her phone on the roof, watching to see if he was in real trouble.

"Be quiet, kid, I'm a friend of your Mom's, okay?" the man said.

The kid just kept crying and saying, "You're not my Dad, you're not my Dad!"

The guy sighed and grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket, then stuffed it in the kids mouth before grabbing his hands and holding them behind his back so he couldn't pull out the gag. He pounded a few times on a door in the alleyway and another man opened the door.

"I got the kid, let me in," the first man said, and Adriana knew this was bad. Really bad.

She looked out over the rooftops and knew that Red X wasn't due to be here for another five minutes. He wouldn't be here in time to even know something happened to the kid.

She looked down at the wailing child's face and knew she couldn't just sit there and do nothing. She reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out he pepper spray she carried with her everywhere, slid down the fire escape as quietly as she could, then walked up behind the man, using as much of Red X's sneaking techniques as she had observed.

"Hey!" she yelled when she was close enough.

The guy turned around and looked at her, and she pressed the nozzle down, sending the burning mixture right into the thug's eyes. He cried out and reached up to cover his face, letting the kid go.

Adriana reached out and yanked his arm, pulling the child toward her before pushing him to the entrance of the alley and yelling, "Go! Run!"

The kid took off, thankfully, sobbing all the way.

The guy behind the door stepped out, snarling, and made a break for the kid, but Adriana tackled his knees before he could get too far. She pulled out the pepper spray again and shot it at his eyes, but the other guy kicked her wrist before she could do much damage, and then she was at their mercies.

They kicked, they punched, they elbowed, they grabbed her by her head and threw her against the wall of the alley. They kneed her in the stomach, driving the air out of her lungs. When she tried to crawl away they grabbed her by the jacket and shot the rest of the pepper spray into her eyes, making her scream and hold her hands over her eyes.

"Don't like it when it happens to you, eh?"

Sometime early on in the beating, she could hear one of the goons talking to someone over the phone, asking a contact about the kid. He cursed and hung up, informing his partner that the boy had gotten to a police officer. Adriana felt her chest swell with triumph, even as the other man snarled and kicked her in the abdomen, saying, "You just cost us a lot of money, puta."

At some point they kicked her in the head, and she blacked out. When she woke up, Red X had finally gotten there and the two guys were beaten to a pulp. She looked up blearily as he crouched down and said her name, cupping her face in his hands and checking over her injuries.

"Was a kid," she mumbled, "had to save 'im."

"Of course you did," he answered before lifting her up and swinging her over his shoulder, "Do you know if he's okay?"

"Mm-hm," she said, already falling back asleep despite the fact that they were swinging through the city now.

"Stay awake for me Adriana, okay? Just stay awake."

"Mmm... 'kay."

Adriana didn't quite manage to stay awake. She drifted off sometime in the middle of the flight, her head lolling agianst Red X's back. When she came to, it was slowly, as if her body was a wrecked car that needed a few tries to get the engine going. Her eyes blinked open blearily, barely managing to focus, and flicked around.

She was lying in a cot, something that looked like it came straight out of a hospital. There was a light hanging from the ceiling to her left, and it burned her eyes. Glancing away from it, she took in the rest of the room, which seemed to be a makeshift sickbay. Medical equipment, most of which she knew the names of since her mom was a nurse, was placed neatly around the room. A table was positioned near her bed with gauze, disinfectant, tape, a needle, and some thread placed on it. There were no windows in the room, but the door was left open a crack, and there was light flooding in from the connecting room.

She spared a look down at herself and saw that she had been stripped out of her hoodie, shirt, and jeans and was now covered in gauze and bandages. There was a spot on her head that throbbed, and she reached up to touch it, the ache the movement caused in her shoulder nothing compared to the harsh sting when her fingers touched the split in her scalp, which had been stitched.

She attempted to sit up, grunting when that made her whole head feel like it was going to explode, then laid back down. It hadn't hurt this bad when she was actually getting beaten up, but she supposed that could be explained away with the adrenaline. Panting, she made a smaller but just as valient attempt to move, turning her body so that she was lying on her side, but that hurt just as much, so she elected to just stay still.

She realized that Red X must have taken her here. Did that mean this was his lair? Or hideout? Or whatever vigilante's called their base of operations? Was she in Red X's headquarters right now?

She felt herself starting to freak out and forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down. Now was not the time to let her inner rabid fan come out. Red X may be her idol but she was in something of a serious situation.

Speaking of Red X, where was he? She looked around the room again, as if expecting him to materialise out of the wall. Which, actually, wouldn't be all that surprising. He was pretty good at making himself unseen.

She didn't have to wonder too long, however, because the door was pushed open and he walked in. He paused a moment upon seeing her eyes open, and she heard him let out a breath beneath the mask.

"You're awake. Good," he said.

"Yeah," she responded, "Um, thanks. For patching me up and everything."

"Sure. It was the least I could do." He stood beside her bed and crossed his arms, looking down at her through the lenses in his helmet. She noticed he had unclasped his cape, and the gauntlets that usually covered his hands were gone. She wondered if this was his version of letting his hair down. "That was pretty stupid, what you did."

She frowned and looked away from him, down at her feet. She remembered then that she was only wearing her sports bra and boys shorts underwear, and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. Red X seemed perfectly comfortable with her state of undress, however, so she tried not to make a big deal out of it, wondering if seeing other people in their underwear was just an everyday thing for superheroes. It probably was, what with how often they got hurt.

"Yeah, I know," was all she said in response. She didn't feel guilty, but she knew that what she had done definitely fell under the reckless category.

"You got pretty seriously beat up."

She just nodded, then winced when it made her head throb angrily.

"And you know what that kind of pain feels like. Adriana," he didn't lean forward, but he voice got lower, and she knew what he was about to say was important, "what you went through was nothing compared to some of the things I've been through."

She stared at him, wondering what his eyes must look like through the mask. Intense, probably. Angry, maybe.

"You got hurt tonight, and you could get hurt even worse tomorrow night. You could die. I told you I couldn't guarantee your safety."

She felt like crying. He definitely sounded angry. Even worse, he sounded disappointed. She had messed up, she knew. She shouldn't have made him waste his time with her, he had an entire city to protect. She shouldn't have even been out there.

...But if she hadn't done what she did then that kid might never have gotten away. She looked away from him again, down at her feet.

"Adriana, look at me," he said in a commanding tone that compelled her to do what he said, and she flicked her eyes back to him. "Now that you know what could happen, are you still going to follow me around?"

The way he said it made it seem like the correct answer was 'No.' Like he expected her to never leave her apartment again. Like if she did anything but that she was definitely doing something wrong. But she didn't feel like she had. She had saved that kid. And sure, she had gotten beaten up, but hadn't she done something good? Hadn't she done exactly what he did every night? And hell, he just said he had gotten himself beaten up even worse than her.

She didn't care, she realized, if it was dangerous. Or that she had been reckless. She had done something good, and that was nothing to be ashamed of. It felt wrong, in a way, to think so strongly in contradiction with Red X, the man she idolized. But she just knew she was right about this. It was the reason she looked up to him in the first place, because he placed the safety of others before his own.

Setting her jaw, she looked him in the eyes - or lenses - and said, "Yes."

He paused for a bit, not even letting a muscle in his fingers twitch, and asked in a perfect monotone, "Why?"

"Because I saved that boy. I don't care if I got hurt, and I don't care if I get hurt again. You weren't there to do it, so I did. And I did something good," she forced herself to say. If he got pissed, if he told her off, then that would hurt, but she genuinely believed in what she had done, and she would stand by that.

"Even after getting this hurt, and knowing you could die, you're still going to go out and keep doing this?" He sounded exasperated.

She nodded, determined to ignore the pain it caused her, and held his gaze.

He was silent for a long time, just looking down at her, and then he said, "If that's the case, then you've sort of backed me into a corner."

She knit her eyebrows at the lightness in his tone. "What?"

"If you're going to just keep coming out and throwing yourself into danger, then I might as well make sure you can do it without getting yourself killed off."

She laid there for a while, not allowing herself to believe what she thought she was hearing. "Are you saying that you'll...?"

"I'll train you. You'll learn how to take on people far beyond those two thugs. And after you get good enough, who knows?" He shrugged. "You could patrol with me."

She knew her eyes must have been popping out of her skull, and all she could manage was a whispered, "Really?"

He nodded. "But only if you want to."

"Yes!" she said immediately, then took a breath, "I mean, yes, yes I want to do that. I- thank you! Yes!"

She heard him chuckle a little, then he reached up and her breath caught as he dug his fingers underneath the helmet. There was a small click and then a hiss, like the release of air, and he pulled the helmet off.

He had black hair, short and boyish, pale skin, and sharp features that seemed too delicate for his line of work. He had another mask under the helmet, a domino that she thought was rather unecessary, and his smile was sharp as he reached up to remove it, revealing piercing blue eyes that made her feel pinned when he looked at her with them.

"My name is Gabriel Soria," he said.

"Oh my god!" she cried and sat up, immediately grabbing her head and abdomen in pain and laying back down with a groan.

"Don't try to sit up!" he said in alarm, reaching out to her with open palms, "You got beat up, remember?"

"Sorry, I just got really excited. I mean, you just... you know."

"I revealed my secret identity."

"Yeah. It's a big deal. I never thought I would get to know who you were."

He chuckled again and placed a hand on her shoulder. "If we're going to be working together, we're going to need to trust each other. This is my way of showing you I trust you."

She felt pride swell in her chest at his words, at his actions. She laughed a bit, giddily, and nodded her acknowledgement.


	4. Mr Lonely

Did Tim feel guilty? Yes. Telling her his identity as a sign of trust didn't really have the same meaning when your identity is a fake one anyway. He introduced himself as Gabriel, bartender and parttime vigilante. His parents had died at an early age due to gang violence and he wanted to rid the city of crime because of it. Nope, he had never met any other superheroes, Batman was just as mysterious to him as he was to her. Superman? Of course not. He was but a smalltime vigilante, he had never even been to America.

She ate up what he told her, and he had to remind himself that there was a good reason he didn't just go around telling everyone he got to know who he really was. She trained well, learned quickly and eagerly, and he genuinely enjoyed teaching her, enjoyed seeing her grow into a strong fighter.

He had been training her for a few months when he asked her who she wanted to be.

"Who?"

"Yeah. Who do you want to be when you get out there and actually start fighting crime? I chose Red X. Have you thought about it?"

"Oh... Yeah, I kind of have. I thought maybe something similar to yours could work. Like Black X, or just X, or... I don't know, something with X in it."

He nodded and offered her a smile. "How about X-girl?"

She made a face at him and he laughed, ruffling her hair to let her know he was only teasing. "Or Lower Case X, that works too." That made her swipe at him, and he let her hit his arm good naturedly.

"What about... something with Red in it instead of X? Like just Red, maybe."

Tim nodded, approving. "Red sounds good. Red X and Red, has a nice ring to it."

She grinned at him and he grinned back before sending her off to do her bo staff practice.

Their first patrol was so imperfect it was perfect. He watched her make so many of the same rookie mistakes he had made, and there was that one time she took forever to shoot her grapple and he nearly had a heart attack because he thought it had jammed or something, but she was just enjoying the free fall. He had her back, took out the people that she wasn't keeping an eye on like she should have been, snagged the back of her suit when she got a bit too close to the edge of a building and yanked her back. He ruffled her shock of black hair and let her take the spotlight when they dropped in on some bad guys. He thought that this must be what a parent felt like when they watched their baby walk for the first time, or dropped them off at the first day of kindergarten. At the end of it all, he told her he was proud of her, and she fluffed up with pride like a cockatiel.

After that, the criminal world of Fortaleza knew to watch out for both of them.

"My crew got taken down by the Reds last night."

"Don't go after Red, X is always close behind her."

"Do you think she's his kid?"

"Figures. This always happens with them vigilante types. One pops up and then they start multiplying. We're gonna be the next Gotham, wait and see."

It wasn't long before Red started earning a reputation of her own, outside the shadows of Red X's. She was the cheery one, the one who went soft on you. The one who laughed as she swung above you, the one who hugged the scared kids until they quieted down, the one who could get a chuckle out of Red X. The one who always asked, "Why are you doing this?" before attacking. But if you answered wrong, she could kick your ass, that was for damn sure.

And Red X, the original, well he just loved her to death, didn't he? Sometimes he would just sit at the edge of a building and watch her take out a group, calling out encouragements, compliments, and critiques on her form, the distortion caused by his mask making his voice mechanical and high pitched. He would lurk behind her as she interrogated people, giving her tips on how to be scarier. They had a fantastic good cop, bad cop routine.

Suffice it to say, they were successful. The criminal world feared them, they did good work, and still remained fairly discreet among the everyday people. Nobody had even gotten a grainy picture of them.

He stood on a tall building in the early night and watched Adriana out of the corner of his eye. She stood proud, her short, red cape blowing behind her, one booted foot resting on the rise on the edge of the roof. She turned to look at him, smiling, eyes probably crinkling under the black domino that took up nearly half her face. He ruffled her hair, then took off into the night, knowing she would follow. This was probably the happiest he had been in years. Having someone with him, to watch out for, to share his less mild-mannered alter ego with. It felt good.

"I'll see you later, Gabe," she called over her shoulder as she made her way out of his basement and up the stairs, slumping withe exhaustion from another night of crimefighting.

"Yup. Remember, don't come over tomorrow, you're getting the night off," he answered.

That made her pause. She turned, halfway up the stairs, and stared at him. "What? Why?"

He turned to give her a look. "You have school the next day. You need sleep."

She blinked at him with wide eyes, and he knew she thought he had forgotten. He thought back to nights like this with Bruce, how Tim hated being kept away from his vigilante duties but was forced to get a good nights sleep anyway.

"But- but I can't just ditch my Red gig for something like," she scrunched her nose up, "school."

"Yes you can, and you will. School is important, trust me. Just go. I've worked on my own before, I'm sure I'll manage without you."

"But-" she started again, but he just shot her a look that always seemed to get her to quiet down, and she sighed and looked away. "Fine."

He nodded and said, "Goodnight, Adriana."

"'Night," came her disappointed reply.

After her footsteps retreated and he heard the door to his house slam shut, he sat down at this workdesk and began cleaning his weapons. A shuriken, black and gleaming, that had a few flecks of blood on it. He wiped it down, polishing it until he could see himself in it. Setting it aside, he started on one of Adriana's shuriken, which had red highlights when you held it up to the light. The cloth rubbed over the sharp edges, and Tim stared down at it, thinking about how she had accidentally hit it against an alley wall, blunting the point.

He had done that a few times, he remembered, back when he was Robin. A slight twist of his wrist in the wrong direction and the shuriken had flown off course, barely grazing Two Face's ear and hitting the wall behind him. He had dove at him, seeing the opening he had left. Dick had made up for it, getting Two Face with a perfectly aimed batarang, and Tim had felt horribly embarassed at his mistake. But Dick had just laughed and ruffled his hair, telling him that he had done the same exact thing a million times.

Tim remembered the weight of his hand on his head, the comfort it had brought. The feeling that even if he messed up, someone had his back. He remembered how Dick had told Bruce that Tim had done well that night, not mentioning the little mishap, and Bruce had nodded approvingly at Tim.

Tim remembered how Kon asked him one time how he never missed with the shuriken, and Tim had smiled and said, "I missed so many times when I started out that luck is just paying me back now." And Kon had snorted, amused.

He remembered having a throwing competition with Steph and soundly beating her, and she had been pissed about it for days even though he hadn't even gloated. He remembered giving Cass a really nice set of them for Christmas one year. He remembered Jason starting to throw a few at him, before realizing who he was and saying, "Jesus, Replacement, warn a guy."

He remembered how he fell asleep polishing them one night, and had woken up to a blanket draped around his shoulders, surely Alfred's doing. He remembered the warmth at the thought, the feeling of having someone looking out for him. He remembered feeling safe.

Tim snapped back to reality with a start, realizing that he was gripping the shuriken with his fingers and blood was dripping from them and onto the table.

"Shit," he muttered, and grabbed a cloth to stem the bleeding, dropping the weapon on the table.

He sighed and looked at it, thinking that he would have to clean it all over again. He looked back to his hands, trying to stop them from trembling, and took a shaky breath.

He couldn't... he couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't stand being alone like this. He had Adriana, but it wasn't the same as having his family. His brothers, his sister, Bruce, Steph, Babs, Alfred. God, he missed Alfred's hot chocolate, how the butler always seemed to know when Tim needed a mug of it and someone to talk to. He missed Oracle's voice over his comm, how he never felt alone with her in his ear. He missed Steph's laughter as they soared through the air. He missed Kon's smile when Tim said something funny. He missed the spats with Jason and Damian, he missed Cass's silent communication, he even missed Bruce's silent lack of communication. He missed Dick's hand on his shoulder.

Tim put his head on the worktable, not caring that he was getting his own blood in his hair, not caring that his tears were falling down to mingle with the blood.

"I miss you," he whispered, choking on his own breath, and gripped the cloth painfully against his hand. "I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you..."


	5. Hot Cocoa Makes Everything Better

Adriana's hand hovered over the handle to her mentor's apartment. She watched her fingers shake and she knew that the winter chill wasn't the cause. She bit her lip and yanked her hand back from it, turning and walking back down the steps before pausing and looking back at the door guiltily.

She didn't want to skip out on training or patrol, but she also didn't want to have to explain anything to Gabe. Even worse, she didn't want to lie to him. He would look at her with that piercing gaze, the one that made her feel like he could see into her soul, and she would crumble like she always did. It would be just like that time she tried to tell him she lost her bō staff in the ocean when really some punk had managed to snatch it from her. All he had to do was raise his eyebrow at her and she broke.

"Adriana?"

She froze. She hadn't even heard him open the door. No, no, she hadn't made her decision yet. She didn't want him to see her. He couldn't see her.

She half turned so that only the right side of her face was visible to him. "Hey, Gabe. Um, I'm not feeling so good? So, I'm just gonna head home, okay?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him standing in the doorway, his brow knit and his lips pulled down in that thoughtful frown. Not good.

"You came all the way here just to say you didn't feel good?" he asked. "You could have called."

"Yeah, well, I felt okay until I got here and then I suddenly felt super bad, so…" Not a lie. "I'm just gonna… I'm gonna go now. Bye!" She turned completely away from him and began to hurriedly walk away.

"Adriana."

Shit. That was his commanding tone. The tone that said 'you better do what I say or there'll be consequences.' She stopped and turned slightly.

"Yes…?"

She could hear him walking up behind her, and she wondered how he could walk out onto the frigid ground in his bare feet before he placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Turn around and look at me."

So she did. Slowly, and with her eyes cast downward so that she didn't have to meet his gaze. The left side of her face came into his view and she heard him suck in a quiet breath. His hands reached up to her face and his fingers tilted her chin up so he could see her face better. Specifically, so he could see the ugly purple and yellow bruise overlapping her temple and her eye.

"You didn't get this on patrol last night," he stated.

Adriana sheepishly lifted her eyes to meet his and felt guilty at the concern in his expression. He looked just like her mom had when she came home to find her with the bruise last night. Eyebrows drawn together and empathetic pain in their eyes. She hated making people worry.

"Yeah, I didn't. I…" she bit her lip and went for the lie she had told her mom. "A kid at school hit me today."

Gabe's hand paused in its examination of the bruise, then fell to his side. He narrowed his eyes at her. "...Really?"

She nodded, but he began to stare at her with that searching gaze, the one that made her feel like he had x-ray vision, and she looked down at her feet, unable to look him in the eye.

"Adriana…" he said, and she knew by the tone of his voice that she had just blown it.

"Okay, look, just promise me you won't freak out, okay?" she said emphatically, reaching out to grab his arm, "I can't have anyone messing with things right now, so you can't do anything if I tell you!"

He stared down at her with wide-eyed concern. "Adriana-"

She shook his arm. "Promise me!"

He paused, then placed a hand on her shoulder and said calmly and quietly, "Alright. Let's go inside. It's cold out here and I can fix you some hot cocoa. And then you can tell me."

She wrapped her arms around herself nervously and looked at her shoes again, allowing herself to be guided into the apartment.

Gabe's place wasn't fancy or big, but it was nice. It had just enough room for him to live and train, and she felt immediately comfortable when she stepped into the space. It was cozy and it felt like Gabe. She felt… safe here.

Her mentor was in the process of boiling water and pouring cocoa into a couple mugs. She had learned early on of his firm belief in the power of hot cocoa. "Hot cocoa makes everything better," he had said on more than one occasion. She worried her fingernail and hoped he was right, because she wasn't looking forward to this conversation.

After a few minutes of silence, he set down a mug of the steaming chocolate drink in front of her and sat across from her with his own. She wrapped her fingers around it and let the warmth seep into her skin, drawing comfort from it.

"Are you ready to tell me who gave you that bruise?" he asked quietly, his tone not accusatory at all. In fact, she had never heard him sound more patient and gentle. Willing to listen.

She took a deep breath. "My… my mom's boyfriend did it."

Gabe didn't even flinch, his brow didn't crease in anger at all. His expression was almost eerily neutral and he just sat and waited for her to continue.

"My mom started dating Lucas about five months ago and he moved in with us. She said it would be good to have a father figure, or something, I don't know. And he's mostly cool, yanno? He talks to me about school and he lets me have sips of his beer sometimes. And uh…" She peered up at Gabe, realizing what she had just said, but he just sipped his cocoa and nodded for her to continue.

She stumbled on without knowing where she was going or when she would stop.

"He just has a really bad temper, especially when he thinks you're lying to him. And recently he's been questioning me about why I've been out so late and… I haven't really been able to give him a straight answer all the time and last night he just…" Her voice had trembled, and she had to take a breath. She took a sip of her cocoa without blowing on it and the heat burnt her tongue. She ignored the pain and continued. "Anyway, he sort of lost it, but he only hit me once!"

She glanced up at Gabe and went on hurriedly at his continuously blank expression. "And Lucas was really sorry after, he apologized over and over again! He even cleaned it up and got me ice and…" She bit her lip, then reached out and gripped Gabe's arm. "It was my idea to lie to my mom about it. If she found out, she'd never forgive him. And he's the best thing that ever happened to her, he makes her happy! And he helps us pay the bills and I know that he would never do it to Isabel."

Gabe was still as a stone through her desperate speech, but finally he raised his hand and placed it over the one Adriana had on his arm, squeezing it.

"Adriana. I'm glad you told me about this." His voice was soothing, calm, but also controlled, as though he was keeping his emotions in check. "I know you think this was a one time thing, but I've seen many cases like this, and usually, if a person is willing to hit someone once, they're willing to do it again."

Adriana felt like she was going to cry, and Gabe's grip on her hand tightened.

"I strongly, strongly urge you to tell your mom about what he did. She's your mother, and from what you've told me about her she cares more about your safety and well being than she does about her boyfriend. She would be happier if you told her. And Adriana."

She had looked back down at her cocoa, but his voice caused her to glance back up at him. He was looking intensely at her, and she realized that the emotion he had been holding back earlier was fury.

"If he ever does anything like that again, if he so much as makes you feel unsafe, I want you to tell me. Immediately. And I'll take care of it. Do you understand?"

She couldn't find the words to argue, so she nodded her head. It seemed to appease him.

"Good." He gestured to her mug. "Drink the cocoa. Hot cocoa makes everything better."

She couldn't help but smile a bit at that, and she lifted her mug and took a sip. It was the perfect temperature now.

"Thanks, Gabe." she murmured, glancing up at him.

His smile was warm. "No thanks necessary. You can always talk to me. Always."

When Adriana came home that night, she found her mother sitting at the kitchen table, staring into a cup of tea.

"Mom?" she said, slightly worried. "You're home early, is everything okay?"

Her mother lifted her gaze and Adriana realized with horror that she had been crying.

"Mom! Are you alright?" She rushed forward and reached out to her, but the minute she was within reach her mother stood and enveloped her in a hug so tight Adriana couldn't breathe.

"Adriana, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry I let him into our home, I am so sorry you had to go through that," her mother rambled in between sniffles, "Please forgive me."

Adriana could hardly process what she was hearing. Had Gabe… but he made it sound like he wouldn't! She had begged him not to do anything! And when would he have had the time…?

"Did he tell you?" she asked, barely a murmur.

Her mother's voice hardened. "Yes. He did."

Adriana gripped the back of her mother's shirt, feeling betrayed

"He told me about it this morning after you left for school," her mom continued, "and I told him to leave, that we were through."

Wait, what?

Adriana pulled back and looked at her mother's tear-streaked face. "You mean… Lucas told you?"

"Yes. He said he felt so badly about it… but I didn't care. He's gone now, alright?"

Adriana realized what had happened and she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as she wrapped her arms around her mom's waist and squeezed her as tight as she could. "I'm so sorry, Mom. I know how happy he made you."

"No, Adriana. You make me happy. Alright?" Her mother kissed her hair and sniffed again. "No man I bring into our lives is ever going to matter more than you. Or your safety. Do you hear me?"

Adriana nodded. It didn't seem to be enough for her mom.

"I need you to know you can talk to me, Ana. I had to hear it from him, but if anything like this ever happens I want you to be able to talk to me!" She pulled back and cradled her daughter's face. "Do you understand?"

Adriana smiled. "Yeah, I understand, Mom. I will. I promise."


End file.
